I'll Give You What You Need
by deansgirl369
Summary: Sam needs something, Dean is happy to give it to him. PWP/Wincest/No real plot, just fun... WARNING: light BDSM


"Enough, Sam," Dean's voice was harsh.

Sam recognized the heat beneath those words, and decided to push, knowing he was close. "I'm tired, Dean. Damnit, can we just stop for the night?" It was easy to sound annoyed when he was as sexually frustrated as he felt right now. It had been too long since they had fucked, and even longer since he had had certain needs met. Not to mention, he actually was sick of sitting in the Impala listening to fucking AC/DC for the millionth time.

Dean wondered how much of Sam's attitude was real and if maybe he was also trying to push Dean. He knew, after these few months of being lovers, that Sam sometimes needed special attention. Hell, his innocent looking little brother had some interesting kinks.

Reaching across the car, Dean wrapped his fingers in Sam's hair, tugging his head back hard enough to cause a frisson of pain. Sam hissed in a breath and arched his back. "I said, enough, Sam. Sit there and shut up. We stop when I say we stop, got it?"

Gaze flicking down, Dean took in Sam's arousal. Yes, this was what he had been wanting, why he was pushing. Well, after listening to the whining and bitching all day, Dean would be more than ready to give it to him when they finally did stop. Giving his hair one more yank, Dean flung Sam's head forward and released him.

When Sam's hand came forward to rub his hardening cock, Dean barked out. "No. No fucking way, Sam. You know better. You just sit there and think about what I'm gonna do to you. You might not get to come at all tonight. We'll see how generous I'm feeling later. I'll give you what you need, but you 'd be advised to shut your cakehole for the rest of the day."

Sam looked at his brother, Dean's jaw was clenched and anger starting to radiate from his body. The anticipation would be worth it. Hell, it would just crank up the excitement.

The whining continued, of course, and the bitching seemed only to increase. Despite knowing what his brother was doing, Dean was still annoyed and letting his anger build. Sam would want it, was asking for it with every word. When he glanced over and realized Sam was no longer hard hours later, he was pissed. "Maybe we won't stop tonight. I'm not even tired. We could just drive straight through."

"What? Why?"

"Just not feeling like stopping, I guess." Dean let his fingers drift down to his thigh, knowing Sam's attention was riveted to his every movement. He stared straight ahead, humming to the music, but his hand slipped to the inside of his thigh before stilling again.

Sam didn't look away, he was pretty sure he didn't blink. Was Dean aware of what he was doing? He seemed to be oblivious, but Sam was pretty sure Dean was a better actor than he had realized for the first 22 years of his life. After all, he hadn't known all those years that Dean wanted this between them as much as he did.

He watched as Dean's fingers slip slowly forward, to touch the bottom of his zipper, then saw as he pressed his palm into his growing erection.

Breath hitching, Sam stared at that hand, waiting to see what he would do next, his own arousal returning swiftly.

Dean continued stroking himself, feeling the burn of Sam's gaze on him, making him more aroused as he contemplated what that would do to his little brother. After about fifteen minutes, he decided he was tired of playing. He was frustrated and angry and ready to take it out on his very willing baby boy.

* * *

"Room 132." Dean announced as he tossed Sam the key. "Be naked by the time I get there, unless you want this to be rougher than you are ready for."

Dean opened the door to their room to find Sam standing at the foot of the bed, naked as ordered, and he took a moment to catch his breath, taking in all that smooth tanned skin over taut lean muscle. The sight of Sam's body never failed to move him, and he had already been hard, had been since those last few minutes in the car.

Sam stood still, awaiting his orders, hands clenched at his sides. "Get on your knees."

Dean watched Sam sink gracefully to his knees, his shaft jerking slightly as he assumed the submissive pose he craved.

Dropping their duffels next to the bed, Dean moved to stand in front of Sam, looking down at his downcast head. He again wrapped his fingers in that silky hair that held such fascination for him, and pulled Sam's head back to look up at him. "You like being on your knees for me, Sam? You excited thinking about serving me?"

Sam's eyes flickered, the hazel narrowing as his pupils expanded. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

When Sam's eyes dropped to Dean's denim covered crotch, Dean twisted his fingers tighter into his baby brother's hair. Sam's eyes immediately returned, locking back into his own.

"What do you need, Sam?"

"Whatever you think I should have, Dean. Whatever you want." Sam's voice was soft, needy.

"Up straighter, off your heels, slave." Dean commanded quietly. "So, what if I think you need nothing, deserve nothing?"

Sam whimpered, "Please. I need you to punish me. Remind me whose I am."

"Are you in danger of forgetting who you belong to, Sam? Is that it? You been thinking about fucking someone else? Of serving someone else?" Dean's voice was dark, threatening. Dean felt a hitch of fear burn in his gut, maybe Sam was getting bored, or was wanting something different, other people.

"No! No, Dean. No one but you. I just like for you to remind me. I need it. No one but you, I swear." The fear in Sam's voice reassured Dean. He sounded so needy, and it fed something in Dean, soothed the part of him that needed this as badly as Sam did.

"Good. Cause you even think about someone else, touch yourself with someone else in your mind, and you will be sorry. This will be like a game compared to what I do to you." He knew it was all talk, he would never truly hurt Sam, but the thought of there being someone else did make him feel violent and black inside. He wouldn't have any compulsion about hurting someone else if they touched his Sammy.

"Never, Dean. I swear." Sam's eyes pleaded with Dean to see the conviction there, the loyalty and the love. He knew Dean wouldn't really hurt him, but wanted to make sure Dean knew there was no one else in his heart or his mind.

"Just don't forget, baby. Never forget." He released Sam's hair but Sam didn't break eye contact. He knew the rules. "Unbutton and unzip my jeans. Do NOT attempt to touch me, Sam. I know you and your games. You don't follow the rules and you don't get to touch me at all tonight."

Sam drew a deep breath, the hands coming up to the button on Dean's jeans slightly shaky. This always made him so excited he couldn't believe it. And Dean was inventive, creative enough to always keep it fresh, new. Not that they did this very often. Just enough to keep them both on edge when they did.

Careful to not brush against Dean's hard length, Sam released the button and then drew down the zipper, as slow as he knew Dean wanted and expected, the click of each tooth sounding loud in the silent room. When he was done, he dropped his hands back to his sides, not touching himself, despite the desperate need to. He was so fucking hard and excited he wanted to beg already. But not now, there needed to be a progression, because by the end of this they would both be crazy, desperate for each other. The begging would come, he knew that.

Dean reached down and slid his jeans and boxer briefs down his thighs, stepping out and kicking them away before throwing his shirt after them. Then he reached and took his own cock in his hand, slowly running his fist along his length, looking down at the beautiful man displayed at his feet.

Watching as Dean slowly jacked himself off, Sam let out an involuntary moan. He wanted to yell at Dean to let him do it, to fuck him, to fuck his mouth, not to waste it touching himself. But he knew better, and as he realized the moan that had come from him he shivered, knowing he would pay for that.

"You know." Dean had heard, of course, and saw the moment when Sam realized his mistake. He would remind him later. "Tell me, Sam. Tell me what you want to do for me. How you would serve me if I let you. If you deserved it."

"I would kiss your belly." Sam began. "I would suck a deep bruise along your hipbone. I would lick my way to your beautiful cock, then I would run my tongue along the shaft, gathering the drops of pre come running down you. I would suck the head into my mouth, tongue your slit. I would suck hard, like I know you like, hard enough that it almost hurts. Then I would take you into my mouth. All of you, running my tongue all around."

Dean was damn close to coming. He fucking loved hearing those words come from Sam's sweet mouth. How his baby's sweet mouth could be so damn dirty was always an incredible turn on. And to hear them while Sam knelt there, naked and hard, well…he wasn't going to last long.

Sam flicked a glance up at Dean's face, and saw the strain there. He was doing a good job, Dean was biting back a moan, teeth caught on that bottom lip he fantasized about constantly, couldn't get enough of. "I want to feel your dick hit the back of my throat. Then I want you to grab my head, wrap my hair around your fingers and adjust me however it feels best for you then I want you to push into my throat. Push until you are as deep as you can get. Then I want you to fuck my mouth. Fuck my mouth until you come down my throat, pulling up into my mouth right before you finish so I can taste your spunk. I want you to fill my mouth with that flavor…"

Dean grunted softly, unable to keep it in as he came. No matter how hard he had tried, that sound escaped. At least it hadn't been a long keening cry of his brother's name, which is what it sounded like in his head. He pumped hard, slowing down as the last spurt ran down his hand. His belly, fist, cock and balls covered in the hot milky substance.

Sam was practically panting. So damn glad he was able to do this to his brother, but needing so much more, feeling so cut off when he could have taken care of it instead of talking about it. But he knew it was all part of the game, part of making him want, and damn if it wasn't working.

Drawing his hand to his brother's face, Dean watched as Sam licked the come from his fingers, "I want to hear you, baby. Don't hold back anymore. If you need to make noise, do it."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sam moaned, deep within himself. It was wrenched from him. He licked and sucked, loving this, loving the taste of his brother in his mouth, needing this connection. When Dean was satisfied that he had done a good job, he stepped forward, "What do you want now, Sam?"

Sam's eyes went to the come painting his brothers crotch and belly and before he spoke, Dean put his hand to the back of his head, this time softly sifting through his hair, "Lick me clean."

A whimper escaped Sam in the second between hearing those words and his tongue making contact with his brother's belly. He licked and sucked, cleaning all of his lower abdomen before moving to his balls, then licked and drew them into his mouth. He wanted to save the best for last, but it was hard to hold out. Moaning quietly, he began to lick and suck that softening shaft, not missing a drop as he worked his way up before taking the length into his mouth and drawing softly.

Dean felt a twinge in his cock, and pulled away, drawing a whine from Sam as he came free.

Knowing it had to be painful by this point, Dean asked, "How much longer before your knees really start to hurt, Sam?"

"They already hurt, sir. But I can take it. I'm ok." Sam wasn't sure he had answered correctly.

"On the bed, Sammy. Lay facedown." Dean commanded, trying to sound more angry than he felt after the last fifteen minutes of pleasure. He didn't want Sam to be in actual pain, but he also didn't want to disappoint him.

Sam scrambled to obey, careful to arrange so that his throbbing cock was in the least painful position possible, and also careful not to touch it or move much so he didn't lose control.

After retrieving a few items from his duffel, Dean moved to the bed, straddling his brother, admiring the view of that gorgeous back and tight tempting ass as he handcuffed Sam to either side of the bedpost and slipping a black silk blindfold over his eyes. Sam's breathing was harder just from this. He had to be in pain by now from the length of time he had been hard combined with the unrelieved erection from earlier in the day. But it wasn't time yet, and Sam knew he needed to keep it curbed until Dean allowed him to come.

"Beg me, Sam. Wanna hear that pretty mouth beg for me."

"Please. Please Dean. Please punish me. Hurt me. Claim me, mark me. Please." The words tumbled out frantically. "Please." He whimpered.

"That's right. You are all mine, Sam." Dean loved that Sam always willingly said it. "You won't be able to sit down tomorrow without wanting to cry out. You won't be thinking about anything but me."

"Yes, please. I want to feel it for days. Want my ass to ache, inside and out. Please."

Sam sighed as he felt his brother's hand caress down his back, skimming along muscles and raising goosebumps before trailing over his buttocks and running up between them. He was relaxed and unprepared when he felt the first crack of the belt against his ass. He jerked, clenching his muscles involuntarily.

"Ahhhh," he yelled and moaned all at once. It felt so fucking good. It hurt just enough to bring him that much more pleasure. Dean rained down several more slightly painful strokes before pausing.

Sam gasped as Dean's husky voice sounded close enough to his ear to feel his breath. "You like that, baby. You like me whipping your ass? Need it?" Dean leaned in and sucked hard on the tattoo on the side of Sam's neck, drawing hard enough to taste blood, biting into the tender flesh before releasing it and licking softly.

Arching into that new pain, shivering with need, Sam whimpered, "Yes. God, yes, Dean, please." Sam breathed deeply, trying to keep from coming just from the heat of his ass, coupled with the pressure from Dean's cock, now hard again, pressing into his ass and that fucking mouth sucking and biting him and rasping out in his ear.

Not one to disappoint, Dean leaned back onto his heels and laid several more stripes across Sam's ass before laying the belt aside. Not moving, he could feel the tension rolling off Sam as he waited, not sure what was coming next. He was drawn up so tight it was amazing as Dean watched him struggle not to squirm. Leaning forward, Dean pressed an open mouthed kiss to the stinging red flesh of his baby's soft skinned ass.

The heat of Dean's mouth was scorching against his already fiery skin, and Sam hissed. God, he loved that mouth, had a fetish about it. Nothing Dean did with that mouth didn't fascinate him, from talking to eating, biting that bottom lip, kissing, licking sucking…and having it against his ass, well, how much more incredible could it be?

Leaning back into a kneeling position, and quickly slicking lube along his length, Dean pressed two fingers into Sam's ass, feeling the clench and then the release, allowing him entry. "Please, Dean. Fuck me. Please fuck me hard. Need to feel you inside me. Feel your huge cock filling me up."

Cock jerking in response to those words, Dean squeezed the base and held for a few moments.

Knowing he was ready and knowing it would still burn, that good burn, Dean pressed his aching cock inside Sam's ass, and was surprised at how close he was already to coming. This whole thing had made him almost as crazy as it had Sam. And damn, Sam felt so fucking good inside. The muscles clamping down on his dick, the heat and the softness of that skin, he knew he wasn't going to last.

He stroked deep and hard, coming within a few minutes, shooting deep inside Sam, who was pressing back against him, working himself as Dean hit that spot that made him keen with need. But it was over, and Sam wanted to cry out with frustrated need.

"Don't you dare come yet, Sam." Dean warned, slapping the red ass surrounding his softening cock. He pulled free drawing a gasp from them both, and leaned back, getting his breathing under control, ready to finish this for Sam.

Dean licked along a couple of the red, stinging welts before leaning back, admiring that beautiful body once again, now marked from his attentions. He reached up and drew his fingernails along the now tender skin, and smiled when Sam's ass clenched tightly. "That's for making noise before I told you you were allowed, baby. You can't forget the rules."

Dean began laying stinging, harsh slaps with his hand along the marked as well as unmarked places on Sam's ass and thighs, varying the intensity but keeping a quick, steady onslaught going. Sam was beginning to squirm against the bed, and Dean knew he had to be so close, or he would never lose control like this.

Quickly releasing both of his hands from their restraints, Dean flipped his brother over and engulfed his dripping cock in one deep swallow. Sam flung off the blindfold and was groaning immediately, from the indescribable combination of the burn of his enflamed ass against the sheet, the sight of his brother working him with his mouth and the, fuck, the feel of that magnificent, exquisite mouth surrounding his cock. He came within a few seconds, back arching, hips thrusting hard into Dean, his brother's name a harsh cry torn desperately from his throat.

Dean licked up the length of Sam's spent dick then up his body, flopping down to lay halfway on top of his panting, sweaty brother, leg thrown over Sam's thighs.

"Good?" Dean needed to know, needed to hear that Sam was ok, that things hadn't gone too far. He always felt that sense of concern after these sessions.

"Good? No." Sam groaned, then brought heavy tired arms around his brother and bringing Dean's tattooed wrist to his mouth. "Fucking awesome, Dean. Damn, just awesome. Love you."

"Love you, baby boy. Always."


End file.
